Stars, Snow, And Mistletoe
A Holidays ‘Naughty List’ Collection
Charity Wells
S.J. Sanders
Sonia Nova
Julie L. Vance
Tempest Luna
Lula Monk
Erin Raegan
Diana Rose Wilson
They Come From Beyond Anthologies
Copyright © 2019 by They Come from Beyond Anthologies; S.J. Sanders, owner
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without explicit permission granted in writing from the author.
A VERY ALIEN CHRISTMAS TREE; Copyright Charity Wells. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
A MOTHER’S NIGHT GIFT: A Ragoru Romance; Copyright S.J. Sanders. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
A SLAVE’S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE; Copyright Sonia Nova. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author
CLARA’S CHRISTMAS WISH; Copyright Julie L. Vance. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
CLAIMED FOR CHRISTMAS; Copyright Tempest Luna. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
THE FIRST TRADITION OF T’LUGOT: A Galactic Seduction Novelette; Copyright Lula Monk. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
A NOT SO LONELY CHRISTMAS; Copyright Erin Raegan. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
DRAWN TO HER FLAME; Copyright Diana Rose Wilson. All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission of the Author.
The stories contained are works of fiction intended for mature audiences.
Contents
Charity Wells
A Very Alien Christmas Tree
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Other Works By Charity Wells
About Charity Wells
S.J. Sanders
A Mother’s Night Gift
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Other Works By S.J. Sanders
About S.J. Sanders
Sonia Nova
A Slave’s Christmas Miracle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Other Works By Sonia Nova
About Sonia Nova
Julie. L. Vance
Clara’s Christmas Wish
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Acknowledgments
About Julie L. Vance
Tempest Luna
Claimed For Christmas
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Other Works By Tempest Luna
About Tempest Luna
Lula Monk
The First Tradition Of T’lugot
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Other Works by Lula Monk
About Lula Monk
Erin Raegan
A Not So Lonely Christmas
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Other Works by Erin Raegan
About Erin Raegan
Diana Rose Wilson
Drawn To Her Flame
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Epilogue
Other Works By Diana Rose Wilson
About Diana Rose Wilson
Happy Holidays
With the holiday season people come together to celebrate the beauty and magic that comes from the heart. The authors of this anthology bring a little bit of that to other worlds and among the stars, to touch your heart and stir your imagination, if you, the reader, care to join us.
~S.J. Sanders
A Very Alien Christmas Tree
Charity Wells
It’s almost Christmas and a sudden job transfer to a station on the outer rim has single dad Maxwell Anderson and his young daughter, Molly, moving away from family and friends with only a few of their belongings. To make up for the abrupt upheaval in his daughter’s life, he promises to find her a Christmas tree for their first holiday alone. He has no idea how hard it will be to keep that promise as they set out to search the station’s greenhouse for a likely candidate.
Being a proper trellian has always been hard, but Layalla Ries is perfectly happy with her life. She has her career, her plants, and her privacy. She’s never minded being alone, but what is she going to do about the human male and his offspring who have invaded her private garden and her thoughts? Sure, the youngling is cute and Max is attractive, but Layalla has no need for a mate. Or does she?
Can Max find a tree in time for Christmas? Can Layalla find room in her life for more? They just might be able to help each other.
1
Max
“Daddy! Daddy look! There it is! There’s the greenhouse,” Molly squealed gleefully, pointing out a set of doors ahead of us. I scratched my head, looking for the hall markers. We’d only been on the station for two lunar cycles and this was our first visit to the public arboretum, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t the right place. Before I could say anything though, my overly enthusiastic daughter had darted through the open doors and off into the greenery. I shrugged, maybe this was the back entrance or something.
I’d promised her that we would find a Christmas tree of some kind to make up for the sudden move to the middle of nowhere. At five years old, Molly had never spent a Christmas without her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Thanks to a clerical error, this year it would be just us, and she wasn’t happy. I’d put in for a transfer to Yulo Station, just outside of Jupiter’s orbit. It was a short hop to Earth and back, easily managed in a weekend and easy for family to visit us as well. What I got was orders to report to my new position on Tulo Station on the far edge of the outer rim within thirty planetary cycles, an exhausting journey of no less than twenty-six cycles in one direction. Four days to pack, that’s all we got.
Despite
my protestations and providing the original copies of my request, I was given the choice to comply or look for work elsewhere. Work for an unemployed structural engineer was hard to come by inside the Terran home system. But there was plenty of work in the outer systems, if you were willing to travel. When Molly came along and I lost Tricia, my desire to travel had disappeared and I just wanted to stay close to family. Now, because of some stupid bureaucratic pencil pushing ass-wipe who typed in the wrong letter, I’d had to uproot my little girl and drag her across the galaxy with only a few boxes that held clothes, her favorite toys, and a few household items. My folks shipped us a new box or two whenever they could, but it was a slow process and we’d only received four so far.
Molly scampered quickly down the first aisle in search of her perfect tree or whatever alien equivalent she wanted. I followed leisurely along, happy to let her explore. She knew to push the emergency button on her wrist unit if anything happened and I’d come right away. Disappearing into the thick foliage, she giggled delightedly as something brushed across her cheek, then she was gone around the next corner.
I’d wanted the transfer for Molly, better schools, better pay, more opportunities with her in mind. Thankfully, I got all that here, even a bit more pay-wise since Tulo station was such a hard position to fill, but it was so far from home. I felt just as lost as she did sometimes, adrift without family to anchor us once in a while. It would be an entire solar revolution before I could apply for another transfer, and that would only go through if someone else wanted my position. Fat chance of that, I snorted to myself.
The work was exhausting, the staff were painfully shorthanded, and the assignments, frequently terrifying. The rim received fewer shipments at more irregular intervals, which meant supplies were severely limited. Unfortunately, most repairs couldn’t or wouldn’t wait for the next shipment. There was a lot of improvisation going on. At least Molly’s school was good and she had made a few friends.
“What are you doing in my greenhouse?” An irritated voice demanded, interrupting my musing just as I reached out to touch a fluffy blue flower. Turning, I found myself facing a female trellian.
The pretty alien glared at me; arms crossed as she waited for an answer. Her skin was a pearly pink, so pale it was almost white. Bright red striations curved across her forehead and down around her eyes, highlighting her fine cheekbones and features. More marks traveled down the sides of her neck and disappeared into her collar. Dainty pointed ears peeked out of thick, unnaturally red hair. She wore a loose black tunic that draped gracefully over her slender body, stopping midthigh over soft grey slacks.
From my college extraterrestrial studies course, I knew her species was one of the closest to humans in appearance. Trellians were mammalian, like humans, and her figure showed it in the slight curve of her breasts and hips. Her feet were bare, exposing a set of four perfectly even toes, tipped with carefully trimmed, short, red talons. Her hands had similar claws on each of her slender fingers. I couldn’t see her tail, which meant she was likely single as most trellians considered an exposed tail to be overly intimate for unmated individuals. For some reason, only mated couples could display their tails without censure. Her mother of pearl eyes narrowed and her toes flexed as she grew impatiently. One elegant red-striped brow rose minutely.
“Well?” She prodded.
“Yours? Apologies, I thought this was the public greenhouse,” I replied. She scowled even more fiercely.
“It most certainly is not,” she answered crossly. “That is the public facility,” she stated, pointing to a set of doors on the far end of the row. “This is my private garden. How did you even get in here? The doors are coded to prevent unauthorized access.”
“Got a little turned around and that door was open,” I explained, shrugging apologetically and hooking a thumb over my shoulder at the door we’d used. The alien sighed, rubbing her delicate brow ridges.
“Merkel,” she muttered, spitting the name like a curse. “You did indeed get turned around. The main entrance to the public greenhouse is on A14 South hall, this is A14 East hall, please remember to use that one in the future. For now, you may go through the connecting doors there and be on your way. Do not damage my flora on your way out,” she chirped with a dismissive shooing motion.
“Yeah, sorry about the intru…” I started before being interrupted by a happy shriek from the next aisle. The poor, put upon trellian was startled so badly she nearly fell in her precious flora and I barely contained a bark of laughter as I caught her arm and steadied her.
“Daddy!” Molly screeched excitedly. “I found it daddy, its perfect! I found the one I want!” I cringed at her words. Molly would have her heart set on whatever it was she’d found and I would have to break it.
The female in front of me frowned sharply at the pattering of Molly’s little shoes as she careened around the corner to come find me. My daughter spotted the willowy alien and skidded to a wide-eyed stop.
“Tiny human, kindly refrain from running in my garden. I have many rare and fragile species in my collection and if you fall on any of them, they could be irreparably damaged,” she scolded as Molly stared.
“You look like a Christmas fairy,” Molly replied with breathless adoration. The trellian’s features softened slightly and she tipped her head to the side, regarding my little girl.
“I understand the translation of fairy, but my unit is unfamiliar with the term ‘Christmas.’ What is that?” She asked finally.
“Christmas is the bestest, funnest, most wonderfulest holiday ever! You gets to decorate a tree and eat candy and drink cocoa and open presents and play in the snow and eat candy and sing songs and have a big dinner with your family and eat candy and it just the bestest!” Molly explained with rapid-fire enthusiasm. The poor alien looked even more confused as she tried to make sense of Molly’s words, finally glancing at me for clarification.
“Uh, ancient human midwinter tradition. At one time it was heavily influenced by religious connotations. Over the centuries it lost its secular emphasis and has morphed into a holiday that celebrates family, giving gifts, and spending time with the ones you love. One of the main traditions involves decorating a small tree that you bring into your home. That’s why we came out here, to find a tree or something similar. Most youngsters love it for the presents and candy though. They don’t understand the deeper meanings until they’re older,” I explained with a chuckle.
“Ah. My people have a similar event at the turning of the cold season. Rusavella is observed to celebrate those who survived the bitter cold and endless night of the trellian season of ice,” she responded, looking wistful. “There is a great feast and much dancing. Then, everyone watches the sun rise for the first time in one hundred and twelve cycles.”
“Sounds fun,” I commented.
“It is,” she replied thoughtfully.
“Come on Daddy! Come and see my tree!” Molly pleaded, bouncing restlessly. The female tensed at the possessive words.
“Baby, I’m sorry, but it turns out we’re in the wrong place. This greenhouse belongs to this nice lady here and we need to go to the other one to pick out a tree for you,” I said gently. Molly frowned unhappily.
“But daddy! You promised! You said I could have any tree I wanted!” She whined, stomping one little foot.
“I said you could have whichever one you wanted, from the public greenhouse. This is not the public greenhouse; therefore, you can’t have it. Maybe the public greenhouse will have one like it,” I replied firmly. “Either way, we have intruded long enough and we need to go.”
Layalla
The male parent was gentle but stern as he corrected his offspring. The tiny human sniffled, head drooping in disappointment. She had his soft brown eyes, but her hair was a tawny gold, while his was a darker, more earthy color. His hair was short and cut close to his skull where hers was longer and hung passed her shoulders. The little one’s face was soft and round with a miniscule nose and small pink l
ips. Her skin was the palest not quite cream color I’d ever seen. His face was strong and square jawed and his own skin tone slightly darker. Rough stubble covered the lower part of his face.
Male trellians tended to be grey or blue in color with darker markings on their faces and bodies. Hairless, they sported a brow ridge that started just above the nose and ran to the top center of their cranial bone. Unlike the rounded ears of these humans, my people had slender pointed ears. We were adapted to the colder environment of our home world, able to regulate our body temperatures and capable of burrowing through the ice crusts on the frozen tundras. We were flexible enough to slip through crevices most species would be unable to navigate.
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